


Now You Know

by JayMor



Series: Let's Be Okay [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Coping, Depression, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Friends help, Gen, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, Space Lions, kind of but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 21:59:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayMor/pseuds/JayMor
Summary: Lance is depressed. He doesn't necessarily want Voltron to know, but maybe it's not the worst thing ever when they find out.





	Now You Know

So let’s talk about depression. It’s not always all sad, tears in tune with the raindrops on the window, violins whining lonely in the background type shit. Sometimes it’s quieter, nicer. It’s the kind of thing you live with and live with until one day you look at yourself in the mirror and think huh _am I depressed_? But then you don’t really think about it again because people are talking to you and you’re busy and really when do you get the chance to be alone with yourself? You don’t. But then suddenly the busyness ends and you sit still for three seconds and realize that holy shit the energy is just gone and you’re tired and you’re not even sad. You’re just empty. Apathetic. And you can’t bring yourself to care at all.

Lance is depressed. It’s cool, really. He’s been used to it for a while. It’s not like the way the pamphlets make it sound. He lives with it just fine. In fact, he deals with it pretty well. He doesn’t need pills or anything, and he knows enough about himself to recognize the signs of oncoming episodes or attacks and make sure he’s safe. It’s not really a secret, but it’s not something Lance likes to broadcast either. Sometimes at 2 am when he gets lonely he’ll sit staring at the star map and wish he could talk to someone, but the urge generally goes away by morning and Lance knows that that conversation is intense anyway. It scares people away, even when they say they won’t be scared.

And it’s not their fault.

That’s the worst part. But also, the best part. It’s no one’s fault but human nature. Lance can’t blame his team, and at the end of the day he won’t blame himself either. He knows it’s not his fault and he knows he’s worth something, even if sometimes in the moment he likes to forget. Most days he doesn’t even notice, the depression more like an uncomfortable distant cousin than a constant companion. He laughs with his team, jokes with them, gets blown off and doesn’t care. They mean well.

But then there’s the nights (and sometimes the days) when it’s just crippling. He can’t talk. He can’t move. He can’t force himself to smile and laugh like he usually does. On those days Lance likes to retreat to the star map and silence, nodding when addressed, working hard in training and slipping away at meals. The rest of Voltron doesn’t seem to notice. But it’s okay. You see, Lance doesn’t really want to talk about it, because he doesn’t want to scare anyone away. And while in the moment Lance wants someone to see the tears on his face, he knows that at the end of the day everything will change if someone sees them because then Lance won’t be just Lance anymore. He’ll be depressed. And Lance doesn’t want to be depressed in anyone else’s head. He’s fine just being depressed in his own.

But of course, Voltron finds out. It starts with Coran, who follows Lance from the dining room one day.

“Hey, Lance my boy, can we talk for a dobash?”

“Huh?” Coran looks more urgent than usual. His orange mustache is twitching like it itches and Lance can’t make himself say no. He agrees.

“Great,” Coran says. “I was worried you’d say no.” Coran leads Lance down a random hallway and toward a bench. Lance wonders why there’s a bench in the middle of the hallway. “Now look here my boy, I’m worried about you. I know Allura can be a little dense, but let me tell you, back in my day I was very observant and I have been observing you my boy.” He stares at Lance like he expects a response. Lance nods. Coran takes that as a welcome to continue.

“Anyway my boy, I want to ask, are you sure you’re feeling all right? I know you humans can get a little under the weather sometimes, and I’m sure it’s not fatal, but you've seemed just a little off for the past few days. Not that your performance is slipping or anything,” Coran hastily adds, no doubt watching Lance’s face pale. “More like you seem droopy. Maybe even a little bit, oh, how do you humans say it? In the dumps? So I wanted to ask. Are you all right?”

Lance thinks for a while. Does he want to tell Coran? He knows he’s been feeling his depression the past few days. It isn’t crippling yet, but it’s starting to get there. He looks at the man. Coran is expectant, all perfect posture and perfectly still mustache. Lance shakes his head.

“I’m not awesome.”

Coran seems to understand that Lance isn’t talking about being sick. “What can I do to help?” he asks.

Lance stays silent for a while. He appreciates Coran, who seems to understand that it’s not necessarily that something is wrong, but simply that something isn’t right. He thinks. Finally he asks Coran, “Do you think you could let me tag along with you today?”

“Of course my boy!” Coran says. “You’re not a bother at all!”

Hunk seems to catch on next, though Lance suspects he’s always known. It’s a bad night, one that Lance spends twisting and turning in bed, unable to sleep as their recent battle plays in his head. Lance is picking it apart, evaluating himself for things he could have done better, things he can improve. It’s not a new routine. But that night Lance hears a knock on his door in the middle of his thinking. It’s Hunk, standing in the hallway with two heated mugs of something that smells a bit like hot chocolate.

“I didn’t think you were asleep yet,” the engineer says. Lance notices that Hunk has dark circles beneath his eyes. “I thought cocoa might help?” He lifts one mug up, almost in a conciliatory gesture. Lance lets him in without a second thought. For a while they sit in silence, just drinking. Once their mugs have been emptied and Lance is curled in his bed, half asleep and half listening to Hunk hum some old melody from Cuba, Hunk speaks.

“You don’t have to deal with everything yourself you know,” he says. “I’m your friend for a reason.”

Shiro and Keith find out together one night when neither of them can sleep. They expect to train in peace, waiting for morning as they sweat in tandem. They do not expect Lance to already be in the training room, already sweating, already waiting for the morning. Keith wants to interrupt, but Shiro holds him back. He recognizes something about Lance. He can see the way Lance holds his bayard like his life depends on it even when his only enemies are the gladiators the castle produces. He can see the exhaustion and the dogged determination to avoid sleep. Keith sees none of it.

“Why can’t we join him?” Keith asks. “It’s not like he ever practices anyway.”

“Not tonight,” Shiro replies. Keith doesn’t understand.

“Why not?”

“Can’t you tell?” Shiro asks. “He wants to be alone.”

Keith turns back to look at Lance. He sees the sweat on his forehead, the way Lance’s grip tightens around his rifle. He watches as Lance shoots in perfect silence without a single mistake. Every gladiator falls after one shot. Keith recognizes it then, the same attitude he has, the one he had in the desert, the attitude that kept him struggling against himself even when he wanted to give up. Lance is lonely, Keith realizes, but determined to survive it. Keith can almost imagine the dumb joke Lance will tell in the morning.

“Come on,” he gestures to Shiro. “Let’s go. We can find somewhere else to spar.”

Neither of them tell Lance what the saw. In the morning Lance flirts with Allura and makes a pun about how the food makes him feel positively green. Keith lets himself laugh. Shiro smiles.

Allura is the next to know, not because she notices, but because Coran tells her. He decides she needs to know one afternoon when Allura tells him that she has seen Lance separating himself from the rest of Voltron lately.

“I can’t allow it,” Allura says. Coran hmms back to her as he fiddles with the warp mechanism. Allura can’t allow a lot of things. Coran has learned to let her complain without interruption. Usually the complaints are where the princess stops. She rarely acts. Today is a rare day. “I think I will have to speak with Lance.”

“What?” Coran wasn’t paying attention, but now that Allura’s mentioned Lance he’s all ears. “What do you want with the blue paladin?”

“He is withdrawn,” Allura says. “I must fix it.”

Coran panics. “Fix it?” he asks. “Allura, my dear, do you know what you’re saying?”

“Of course I know!” Allura protests. “I am the leader of Voltron! I must look out for the good of the paladins.”

“But fixing him?” Coran says, fiddling with his mustache, “I do not believe you know what you are talking about, Princess.”

Allura does not like to be doubted. “What are you implying Coran?”

Coran grimaces. “Merely that you do not understand the blue paladin,” he says. “Young Lance is not broken, and does not need to be fixed.” Allura begins to protest. Coran bulldozes on. “His withdrawal is normal, and he will be back to his usual self in no time. You do not need to do anything Princess. Instead trust in Lance and his ability to take care of himself. The humans are different. Their withdrawal is not always negative. Sometimes it is necessary.”

Pidge is the last to know. She finds out on accident one day when she walks in on Lance with Blue in her hangar. He’s talking to himself or to Blue, Pidge isn’t sure, but she is sure that she didn’t expect what Lance says.

“I know this is normal Blue,” Lance says, staring up at his lion. Blue stares back. “I mean, I’m used to it. The thoughts are one thing, because I know they aren’t true, even if it’s hard to ignore them. But I hate feeling so empty, like everything is hard. I can’t even talk to Hunk like normal without wanting to just give up. Ugh.” Lance rests his forehead against Blue’s paw. “I wish it would just be easy again, girl. It was easy for so long. How come today is so rough?”

Pidge accidently knocks over a wrench. Lance sits up with a jolt, eyes wide as he stares back at her.

“Pidge?” he asks. His voice trembles a bit. Pidge hates it.

“I’m sorry Lance,” she says, making to back out of the hangar. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Don’t mind me. Just go back to doing whatever, you know, it is you were doing.”

“Pidge.” Lance says her name again. This time it isn’t a question. It’s a command. “Stay. You’re not interrupting anything.” Pidge wants to laugh when she realizes that Lance is trying to make her feel better, even when he himself feels like crap. She picks up the wrench and puts it back where it belongs then goes to sit by Lance.

“Can I ask you a question?” Pidge asks. Lance nods. “How did you get so close to your lion?” Pidge asks. “I can’t seem to get mine to do more than help me fight, but your bond with Blue is so close. I’m kind of jealous.”

Lance smiles. “It’s not hard,” he says, launching into a complex explanation. “You just have to talk to your lion.” Pidge smiles back, listening as Lance rambles on at Blue’s feet, glad that Lance wants to answer her question. Pidge realizes that she doesn’t usually ask Lance questions. Instead she gives him answers. She briefly wonders why. Lance is smart, she realizes.

That night the depression becomes a distant cousin again, pushed back by companionship, though Lance knows it is only a matter of time before the depression returns. It’s okay though, because Lance is healthy. He knows how to protect himself, and now, Voltron knows how to protect him too. There are bumps sometimes, insensitive comments, but it’s all right because it’s not their fault. It’s no one’s fault. It’s merely human nature, and Lance can’t get mad at that.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing langst. Also hella unedited. Sorry if there are any terrible mistakes.  
> Have a good day ^^
> 
> Jay


End file.
